The Interview
by Flash of red
Summary: After the second wizarding war, international portkey security has tightened. It is Auror Potter's first day on the job, and he has to ensure no Death Eater leaves the country on his watch. Leave it to Malfoy to be the first questionable traveller.
1. Chapter 1

The Interview

'Look! It's blank. Nothing! No blemish!' Draco Malfoy waved his up-rolled sleeve under Auror Potter's nose as they faced another at the entrance of the International Portkey Travel Department within the Ministry of Magic. There was no Dark Mark. 'Can I move now? My Portkey to Paris is leaving in half an hour.'

Potter quirked an eyebrow. 'There is a reason why you have to arrive at the platform two hours prior to departure, Malfoy. Not half an hour. Two hours before.'

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'You have well established that I am not, nor have I ever been a Death Eater. There is no reason to hold me any longer.' The blonde tapped an impatient foot.

Harry Potter sighed. He had passed his Auror training just a week ago, and this was his first day working at the International Portkey Travel Department. It was his job to ensure no Death Eater or Voldemort sympathiser left the country. Technically, Malfoy hadn't done anything wrong. Being an annoying high maintenance git was no crime in itself. But estranged and imprisoned or not, notorious Lucius Malfoy, Draco's Father had been one of Voldemort's inner circle, and Harry didn't want to risk making a grave mistake on his first day of duty. Plus, there had always been something fishy about Malfoy.

Harry contemplated for a moment. It wouldn't hurt taking Malfoy to one of the investigation rooms for further questioning, just to make sure.

The investigation - it was more of a cell than a room - was a tiny affair with a blank table, two chairs, two tiny windows that were charmed to show the Statue of Liberty and the Chinese Wall, and a house-elf, busy preparing a cup of tea.

'Thanks Eleutheria,' Harry muttered as the steaming hot beverage appeared in his hands. 'You're most welcome, Master Auror,' Eleutheria replied, bowing so deep that her pointy ears touched the ground before disapperating.

'The polite thing would have been offering a cup of tea to your unjustified prisoner,' drawled Malfoy, who sat across from him, his hands in restraint, as he hadn't followed Harry quite that willingly.

'You should be happy that I took you straight through. Most suspects wait in holding cells before they are brought for questioning. You have two choices here.' Harry held up his fingers. 'One, you take the privilege of a swift investigation, or you have a cup of tea down in a holding cell, while you wave goodbye to your portkey.'

Malfoy rolled his eyes in response and mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'Head Auror Robarts will hear about this,' then louder 'I will file a formal complaint, Potter.'

Harry shrugged. 'Only doing my job Malfoy. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.'

'Get on with it then. The Portkey is leaving in twenty, and I can't be late.'

Harry leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and his eyes on Malfoy's still exposed left arm. 'You didn't take the mark.'

'How kind of you to notice. And it took you only what? Ten minutes staring at my arm to figure this out?'

'Your Father has a Dark Mark and so has your Aunt Bellatrix. Voldemort has lived in your house for almost two years. That makes me question where your loyalties lie.'

'My father and I have not spoken in two years, and my aunt has been dead for three. You cannot make me responsible for their actions.' Malfoy looked furious.

'No, I can't. And it not my intention to, however, considering the environment you have been raised in, your influences and acquaintances, portray a questionable background. Goyle took the mark and is on the run since having killed a family of muggles. Crabbe died casting the fiendfyre. Both of them were your best friends at school, weren't they?

'Look Potter...'

'That is Auror Potter to you, and you don't get to tell me where or where not I am supposed to 'look' at.'

'Auror Potter,' Malfoy parroted through clenched teeth. I don't deny any bad influences I might have had growing up. We both know that I was raised to belief to be of a superior race. I also admit that, as a child, I believed every world out of my father's mouth. Which young wizard wouldn't? Especially when the whole world seemed to kneel at your father's whim. But I lived through a war, the same war as you, and my morals have drastically changed.'

Harry studied Malfoy. He hadn't seen the other man since the battle of Hogwarts, nor had he any idea what the other man did with his life, or his current personal relationships. But then, every word out of Malfoy's mouth could have been rehearsed - that's exactly what a Death Eater would do, and Malfoy had always been a convincing actor and worse, a cunning snake.

'Do or do you not still life in Malfoy Manor?' He decided to ask.

'I do,' Malfoy answered.

'So you admit living in a manor that has been known for hosting dark artefacts, that was the home of Voldemort for two long years, that had held prisoners of the war in its dungeons?' Harry's nose flared and he was breathing hard. Malfoy Manor was still the centre of his nightmares, even three years after Voldemort's death.

'Its my ancestral home.' Malfoy grunted. 'Has been since 1308. All generations of Malfoys have lived there. There is so much history, so many memories...'

Harry interrupted by banging his fist on the table. 'I didn't ask you for a bedtime story. That was a simple yes and no question. Despite everything that had happened during the war, you have no qualms living in that manor? Yes or no?'

Malfoy, gulped, gaped and coughed, before uttering an almost soundless 'yes', followed by an even softer 'but,' which Harry ignored. In his mind's eye he could see the stain of blood Dobby left behind after Bellatrix had thrown her dagger into his little house elf heart. He could hear Hermione's screams as the scar, which formed the word 'Mudblood,' was cut into her forearm, the reason why she still didn't wear any short sleeves to this day. His hands were shaking and he bought hard onto his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

'Its the only thing I have left that reminds me of my mother.' Malfoy continued in a subdued voice.

Harry didn't respond. Instead he asked, 'What do you want in Paris?'

'I have a job interview at Beauxbatons.'

'You? A professor?'

'I have you know that I always did very well in my studies. Second to Granger in most subjects.'

'It's not your academic record that brings goosebumps to by skin, but the fact that you will be in charge of innocent students.'

'I guess that his for Madam Maxine to judge and not for you.'

'What subject?'

'Defence against the Dark Arts.'

Harry barked a cold laugh. You? Defence? You are in love with the dark arts. Always have been.'

'They had allured me when I was younger, I do admit, precisely the reason I now understand the danger, and...'

Again, Harry interrupted with a banging fist. 'You admit it! The dark arts allure you! Just because you don't carry the mark doesn't mean I can't arrest you for being a Death Eater you know!

'I said HAD allured me! It's in the past!' Malfoy's voice was raised too.

'Who says they won't allure you again? You have been weak once, have felt the power, the charm, the temptation. The seduction is out there. Everywhere. Who's to guarantee there won't be relapse? Where is the guarantee?'

Malfoy shook his head, as if struggling to find an answer. 'No one has a guarantee,' he finally whispered. 'Not even you.'

Harry spat on the floor. 'Keep your accusations to yourself.' His mind was racing. Would he be responsible for having put hundreds of French students in danger when he let Malfoy through. In a sense, the blonde was right. It was Madame Maxime's job to judge, but Harry knew Malfoy so much better than the tall French lady. He glanced at the clock. There was still time for a few more questions before Malfoy had to get his portkey. He would decide then. He looked at the blonde man, who slumped cockily in his seat. Out of the corner he could see something moving at Malfoy's shoe. Harry shook his head, squinted his eyes, then looked again. Indeed. Malfoy's left shoelace seemed to have difficulties holding still. He took a closer look and realised that this wasn't a shoelace at all. It was a tiny snake. Very slowly, Harry sat back down, shouted for Eleutheria and ordered two cups of tea once the elf had popped into the small chamber. A second later, when both steaming hot cups sat on the small table, Harry withdrew a small vial from his pocket. He placed a single drop into one of the cups, and pushed it towards Malfoy. 'Drink!' He ordered.

To his credit, Malfoy complied without much complaining, and drank the still searing hot beverage at once.

'So,' Harry started, leaning forward and steeping his hands. 'Here you are, trying to convince me that your a sample citizen, all while trying to smuggle magical creatures across the channel without a licence.' A smile played around his lips. Harry was thankful that his first instinct had been right, as usual?

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Malfoy hissed. 'I don't have any creatures on me.'

Harry wrinkled his forehead. He dropped another drop of veritaserum in Malfoy's cup, yelled 'aquamenti' until is was filled with a sufficient amount of water, and handed it to the scowling man across him. Yet again, Malfoy declined carrying any creatures.

'Remove your left shoe' Harry growled, 'then place it on the table and tell me you don't carry anything illegal.'

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 'As much as I would love to comply,' he shook his hands in Harry's face, 'you still have me in shackles, which makes it difficult to remove my boot.'

'I'm pretty sure you manage.' Harry replied.

Malfoy groaned but bent down to retrieve his shoe and set it on the table. The small snake he had used as a shoelace seemed to be thrilled with the new surroundings, and curiously looked around.

'What do you think this is?' Harry asked sarcastically, pointing at the little head. 'The lace?' Malfoy asked, then started to chuckle. 'Dolce and Gabanna wizarding collection. Charmed shoelaces. This is not a real animal if this is what you have thought.'

Come to think of it, Harry remembered having seen little Teddy Lupin wearing a similar pair only last week. Only his were flobberworms instead of snakes. Of course, the little boy's shoes hadn't been a designer brand. Not only for budgeting purposes, but also... 'Dolce and Gabanna. No surprise you like them.' Harry announced. 'Dolce had been arrested for Death Eater activities in Milan three days ago. I bet you got them on a buddy discount.'

Malfoy significantly paled at this. 'I didn't know. I swear I... I never had... '

'Silence!' Harry bellowed. He had to think. Malfoy had two drops of veritaserum. This meant that he told the truth. This also meant that he had not done anything that justified being held here. But there was this feeling in Harry's gut and an image of Minister Shaklebolt's disappointed face floated to the forefront of his mind as the elder man questioned him why he had allowed a dark arts practitioner to portkey. Harry had to dig deeper.


	2. Chapter 2

The Interview - Part two

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, then took a deep breath, a wary eye on Malfoy, who remained sulking in his corner of the room. He knew Malfoy! He had been in school long enough with this git to sense that there was something dodgy about him. Unfortunately, his gut feeling wasn't good enough for an auror report. He needed proof. Something he could pin on Malfoy.

Memories from his sixth year at Hogwarts came back to Harry. He had had a gut feeling back then, too. And he had proven to be correct.

'Empty your pockets and put all of your belongings on the table. I need to examine them,' he told the blonde, who significantly paled at his words. 'You can't do that!' Malfoy objected. 'Portkey Security Aurors do not have the authority to conduct a search without prior authorisation from the Border Operations Wizard or the Head Auror.'

'Someone learned their textbook well,' Harry sneered, 'It makes me wonder what you might carry with you to have studied rights of search so expressively.'

Malfoy didn't say anything in return and Harry called for Eleutheria. 'How may Eleutheria help Master Auror this time,' the elf said with a customary bow.

'Fetch me a strong cup of coffee please, and a pink request form.'

'Of course, whatever Master Auror wants,' the elf replied and popped away.

Malfoy gave an exasperated sigh, then stood up. 'Fine,' he growled, and started to remove various nicknacks from within his dark grey robes. 'My portkey leaves in five minutes, Potter. Better be quick.'

'This is Auror Potter to you,' Harry barked and slapped his hands on his table. He clearly remembered the words of his trainer. 'Always ensure you establish authority. Name calling, goading or sarcastic comments may seem and sound harmless, but they effectively remove a subject's respect for your title.'

'Auror Potter,' Malfoy repeated through clenched teeth, as a pouch filled with sickles, reading glasses, a red remembrall, a shrunk Quidditch broom and a muggle calculator found its way on Harry's table. 'There you go. Have a look AUROR Potter and kindly hurry. Now its only four minutes until my portkey leaves.'

Harry picked each item up carefully and inspected it. He checked them for every dark curse he knew as well as for traces of transformation.

All seemed to be in order.

There were still two minutes until the Portkey would leave. He carefully eyed Malfoy's robes. Of course, they were of the finest quality, the Twilfit logo neatly stitched onto the collar. Malfoy had only emptied the two outer pockets of the robe, however a fine robe like this certainly had pockets also on the inside to carry more precious and valuable items.

'This robe doesn't have inner pockets,' Malfoy complained but once again his complexion had paled. Harry grinned. It felt good to have the upper hand finally. 'Your portkey is leaving in one minute. I would comply if I were you.'

Shaking with anger, Malfoy removed his robes and threw them at Harry. 'Check for yourself then. No inner pockets.'

Harry did indeed check, and his cheeks widened to a broad grin, when he discovered traces of a disillusionment charm sewn into the fabric. 'Finite Incantatem,' he shouted, and a total of three inner pockets were revealed. All of them were bulging and threatening to burst. Jackpot!

'This is not what you think it is,' Malfoy stammered, sounding much younger than his usual drawling self. Sweat was raining down his forehead and his hands shook in their confines. 'I know what this looks like, but please, let me explain.' the blonde begged, looking very distraught.

'Empty your pockets onto the table,' Harry repeated in an emotionless voice, but his insides where celebrating a victory. He got Malfoy! He definitely got Malfoy pinned down and a report to fill.

This was better than Christmas, New Year and Halloween combined!

His shaking hands made it difficult to remove the items smoothly, but Malfoy placed one item after the other onto the table: A shrunk children's bike, a black skull figurine, a chess piece and five pairs of mismatched socks. Animal print underwear, that came in the design of either a roaring lion's head, a whinnying zebra, or flapping elephant's ears at the crotch. Harry wasn't sure whether he should be amused or disgusted at the undergarment choices of his former classmate. This was followed by a jar filled to the brim with a silvery, liquid, substance that looked suspiciously like unicorn blood. He reached for the glass holding the molten silver and took a closer look.

'I know what you think,' Malfoy mumbled defeatedly, 'but please, let me explain.'

'I don't think there is anything to explain,' Harry spit out. Memories from his first year in school came flying back to him, and he felt a phantom pain in his scar as he remembered seeing Voldemort drinking from that poor, dying creature in the Forbidden Forrest.

'This is not what you think it is,' Malfoy insisted, but Harry, thoroughly disgusted now, waved his wand and sealed Malfoy's lips together.

He couldn't deal with feeble explanations now. This was bad. Really bad. Even worse than he would have ever dreamed.

Only a few metres away from the investigation office, a yellow banana peel gave a blueish glow, before it disappeared into Paris without its customer.

Malfoy kept on starring at Harry with pleading, teary, eyes but his former classmate ignored him as he paced up and down the investigation room, waiting for the Ministry's potion expert to arrive and confirm that the ingredient in the jar was indeed unicorn blood.

It didn't take very long until two more aurors rushed into the investigation room, taking hold of Malfoy. 'You come with us, buddy,' one of them said. 'There is a lovely little holding cell with your name on it.'

'I did not do anything illegal. This is not as it seems,' Malfoy shouted, having tears running down his eyes, his lips where covered in blood as he had ripped them apart despite Harry's curse.

'If yer tellin' the through, ye'll be out in a few moments,' the elder auror assured, and seemed to have taken pity on Malfoy as he drew his wand and healed the blonde's lips.

'You'll pay for this Potter!' Malfoy shouted. I did do nothing. NOTHING! And I insist to see a lawyer. And a member of the Wizgamont. And I demand to speak to the Minister of Magic himself about this!'

Harry stood grinning in the door frame, waving after Malfoy's retreating form, feeling thoroughly pleased with the world.

Harry spend the following hour pacing up and down the Portkey departure gates. 'What the heck is taking so long,' he mumbled to himself, his mind constantly drifting to Master Foamcastle's potions laboratory. Surely, the Potion Master only needed to take one sniff to identify the item.

The young auror sighed and paced up and down again, one eye always keeping an eye on the moving crowd in front of the portkey gates. Fortunately, there had not been another suspicious person since.

After what felt like ages, an old and haggard wizard was rushing his way, his neon green robes an eyesore from a far distance. He was accompanied by a more striking figure dressed in a more mellow lilac. Master Foamcastle and Head Auror Robarts were rushing to where Harry stood. The young auror's chest swelled at the sight. If Foamcastle brought the Head Auror along, certainly it was to thank Harry for his vigilance.

'Potter, a word,' the Head Auror barked and nodded his head towards the investigation chamber. Harry nodded, and followed the two men inside. Once everyone was seated, Master Foamcastle reached into his pockets from where he withdrew two jars, both of them holding a liquid silvery substance. Harry immediately recognised the one to his right. It was the jar Malfoy had on his person earlier today.

'Mr Potter, this is the jar you have taken off Mr Draco Malfoy.' Foamcastle pointed at the jar. 'And this,' he pointed at the second one, which was much smaller and the molten substance inside more intense. 'This is a hint of unicorn blood from within the confiscated items chamber. As you can see, this is a very strong and dark silver, emitting a soft glow, whereas the product confiscated from Mr Malfoy is much lighter and does not have any magical shimmer around it.'

'So it's more diluted, I guess.' Harry assumed.

'Auror Potter, unicorn blood, as you have certainly learned in your potion classes at school, does not bind with any other substances and can therefore not be diluted. The substance in Mr Malfoy's jar is simply a concoction of Colloidal Silver.' Master Foamcastle explained.

Harry sat open mouthed, feeling as if a Hogwarts express was running though his brain. 'Collo-what silver?' He parroted.

'Colloidal silver,' Foamcastle repeated. 'Its a muggle remedy. Not very effective, but generally used to cure infections and to balance a healthy diet, though some muggles seem to believe it to be a cure for more severe medical conditions as well.'

Five thousand thoughts tried to crash Harry's brain simultaneously. Why would Malfoy carry around a muggle remedy - and a useless one at that?

Why was he so scared of showing it that he had disillusioned his pockets?

Why had be been so scared when the jar had been found?

And more importantly: How could he have mistaken the remedy for unicorn blood?

Sitting next to each other, Malfoy's jar looked almost yellow and pale, whereas the unicorn blood closely resembled quicksilver. He gulped, then looked up to the Head Auror, who had been silent so far.

'The ministry is currently sorting out a new portkey for Mr Malfoy, the cost of which will be deducted from your next salary. We also expect you to apologise to Mr Malfoy in person before his sojourn.'

Harry sat nothing, but nodded as they left the small chamber together. Through his peripheral vision, he saw Malfoy being accompanied back into the International Portkey Travel Department, an unreadable expression on his face, and a bent spatula clutched in his right hand. The ministry portkey.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry walked over to Malfoy and uttered his apologies for any inconvenience caused, but without making a lot of effort sounding sincere.

Despite the reprimand, he still had this feeling in his gut that something was severely amiss.


	3. Chapter 3

The Interview - Part three

'They just let him go! I even had to apologise! APOLOGISE! To Malfoy!' Harry ranted, pacing up and down Ron and Hermione's living room, his face livid. 'I just KNOW that he is up to something. This is sixth year all over! And just like sixth year, no one believes me until it is all too late.'

'Dumbledore knew. You said so yourself,' Hermione reminded him, but it did nothing to relief Harry of his agitation.

'I bet it WAS unicorn blood. And he somehow managed to transfigure it.'

He had told Ron and Hermione the full story in detail and how Malfoy had blanched as Harry had found the small jar carrying the silver substance.

'Harry, have no not paid attention in potion classes at all. Unicorn Blood is resilient against transfiguration. Plus, didn't you personally test all object you found on his person?' Hermione frowned

'It's just this feeling I have, Hermione. I just know something is wrong. I just know he shouldn't have been allowed to portkey to Paris. And to think he will be teaching students there. In Defence Against the Dark Arts nevertheless. What a joke!'

Ron and Hermione looked at another. The same look they always shared when they thought Harry went a little bit overboard.

He knew the look well.

'Look mate, so far, Malfoy's only been going for an interview. That doesn't mean he'll get the job. Voldemort applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts on numerous occasions and never got in.'

Harry sighed, 'You're right, but I have a bad feeling about this. You know Malfoy's talent for sucking up to the right people.'

'But even if they give them the job it will be down to Madame Maxim's bad judgement - and lack of common sense - and not yours. So don't worry about it.'

Ron accio'd a bottle of Firewhiskey and poured the two of them a healthy tumbler. 'Come on, loosen up and let's celebrate your first day on the job.'

'Thanks mate,' Harry said, reaching of one of the two glasses, then looked up at Hermione who had poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice.

'Hermione, you're not drinking?'

'No, not anytime soon,' his bushy-haired friend blushed, casting a shy glance at her fiancé. They shared a look Harry couldn't quite decipher. 'There is something we wanted to tell you, Harry.'

'A baby! That is fantastic! Congratulations you too!' Harry was truly pleased for his friends, but there was still this nagging feeling that prevented him from being truly happy about the news. He just knew that he had made a grave mistake today. Nevertheless, he tried his best not to show this to his friends and instead celebrated the good news with them 'Is it a boy or a girl, do you know?' He asked.

'No. We wanted to keep it a surprise.' Hermione smiled, rubbing her belly. Only now did Harry notice the small bump that had already formed there.

'We would like you to be the godfather,' Ron said. 'Would you?'

'Of course! Merlin! I would be delighted!' Harry beamed, having forgotten all about Malfoy for a second.

The bottle of Firewhiskey was soon followed by another one and at the end of the night, Harry stumbled through the Fireplace into his own living room, where a fuming red head was sitting, tapping an impatient foot, arms crossed and ears steaming with smokes of anger. Ginny was livid.

'Where have you been?'

Harry went through his mental diary, trying to figure out if he had forgotten something of great importance, but his mind came up blank. 'Sorry,.. I ... err... ehmmm didn't expect you to visit tonight?'

Ginny sighed, all traces of anger evaporating from her face. She looked younger all of a sudden, and seemed to shrink in on herself. 'I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't let my horrid mood out on you.'

'It's okay, don't you worry.' He assured her, taking a seat next to her and reaching for her hand. 'Just tell me.'

'No, it's definitely not okay.' Ginny apologised. 'And you're right, my visit wasn't planned. In fact, I was supposed to be in Stratford Upon Tyne tonight, playing against the Hamlet's Harlots.' Taking a deep breath, she continued. 'I guess I had just expected you to be home and I was in need for a friend.' She couldn't continue as tears started streaming down her face. Immediately, Harry was extremely worried, and pulled the red head into his arms. 'What happened, sweetie?'

Without uttering a word, Ginny lifted the sleeve of her robe, revealing a jarred scar, which almost split her arm in half. It was crudely stitched together and held an overpowering smell of Dittany. Harry wondered how he could have missed this before as he wrinkled his nose.

'Training accident. I don't know. Dean split up with me - again and I just wasn't as focused as I should have been. Flew right through a glass wall.'

Dean and Ginny's relationship was as rocky as it had been two years ago when they started going out again. It was a constant fighting, splitting up and getting back together, taking the toll out of both parties. But despite the emotional torture they constantly put themselves through, they were worse off without another, and always got back together within weeks.

Harry and Ron had long given up commenting on it.

'The mediwich took me off the team for two month,' Ginny elaborated. 'That is half of the season.' She sniffled and cleaned her nose.

'What did Biggle say?' Harry asked, knowing that his red headed friend never got on well with Bernadette Biggle, the team's trainer and captain.

The question led to another shout of outrage. 'This hag of a woman told me that I won't have to come back. Said that they need to train up Locksley anyway, so they will just keep her for the rest of the season.' Ginny spit on the ground. 'Said I can come back next year and try out again if I really want to.' She added in a defeated voice that indicated no intention at all of doing so.

Harry gave her a little smile, lacking any words that might make her feel better. He would have been furious in her shoes. 'What are you planning to do then?' He asked carefully, not sure whether Ginny had had the time yet to really comprehend today's events and had actually thought of creating a new life plan for herself. Ginny smiled a little, then pressed a small pamphlet into Harry's hands. 'I've always wanted to learn another language,' she admitted. 'And who knows, if I learn to speak French, I might be able to try out for the Paris Poulets. They are the currently best all female team in the world!

Harry skimmed through the little brochure Ginny had handed him. It advertised a Three weeks intensive French course for adults at Beauxbatons, starting in two weeks time, and ending just before the start of the new term.

Beauxbatons, where Malfoy might be starting as a teacher soon.

His boss might not be too happy with his short notice holiday request, but the French course would give Harry the perfect opportunity to investigate the blonde menace. Out loud he said. 'That's brilliant, Ginny. In fact, I have always wanted to learn French myself. How would you feel if I joined you?'

Ginny's grin widened as she slung her arms around Harry's shoulders. 'This would be perfect, Harry! I'd rather prefer to have a friend with me.' She paused for a moment. 'Going with you would also make Dean jealous. Another plus, if you ask me.'

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. This wouldn't be the first time Ginny used him for just this purpose. But whilst he didn't really mind, Ron and Hermione would be on his back, chewing his ears off for letting himself be caught in the relationship-mess again. They didn't know that Harry used situation just as much to his own advantage as Ginny did. His ex girlfriend was the only person he had ever told that he preferred guys, but also that he was not ready to share this with anyone else yet. Having grown up in the homophobic environment that was the Dursley's home and a constant assault of wizarding media, he was far from ready to come out. And playing the lovesick fool pinning hopelessly after his ex made sure no one questioned his lack of a love life.


End file.
